Whatever It Takes: Birthdays and Bad Choices
by curlybean
Summary: Neal celebrates his sixteenth birthday with his family and friends. Unfortunately, everything doesn't go as planned and Neal makes a few bad choices. Takes place in the Whatever It Takes universe. Please read that one first.
1. Chapter 1

Whatever It Takes: Birthdays and Bad Choices

* * *

Author's note: This one-shot takes place in the Whatever It Takes universe. It probably won't make much sense if you haven't read that story first.

* * *

Neal woke up to the sound of what could only be a trumpet blowing in his ear. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad, but whoever was playing it had absolutely no skill, whatsoever. Jumping up in bed, he looked wildly around, only to find a laughing Peter Burke standing before him.

"What the hell was that?" Neal yelled, as he tumbled to the floor, his legs tangled up in the sheets of his bed.

"Hey! Watch the language, Birthday Boy," Peter laughed, as he helped untangle his son from the sheets. "Don't let your mother hear you talking like that."

"Sorry," Neal answered sheepishly. "It just sort of slipped out once I realized my eardrums weren't ruptured. Where did you get a trumpet anyway?"

"It's mine," Peter said. "I played it in high school."

Neal laughed at that, causing Peter to frown. "You were better then, weren't you? Please tell me you were better then."

"I'll have you know that I was a great trumpeter at one time," Peter exclaimed. "One of the best in our band."

"Your band must have really sucked," Neal laughed.

"Don't think that I won't ground you, just because it's your birthday, little man."

"Mom won't let you do that," Neal laughed before running around Peter and down the stairs.

Peter followed with a smile on his face.

* * *

Once downstairs, Neal was excited to find that Elizabeth had prepared all of his favorite breakfast foods for him.

"Happy Birthday, sweetie," she said as she smothered him in kisses. "How does it feel to be sixteen?"

"It feels pretty good," Neal answered. "It'll feel even better if you promise me that Dad will never be allowed within ten feet of a trumpet ever again."

"Sorry about that, sweetie. I tried to talk him out of it, but you know how stubborn he can be."

Neal sat down at the table and started filling his plate with chocolate chip pancakes and French toast. As they ate their breakfast, Elizabeth talked about what they had planned for Neal's birthday. The boy was obviously excited to hear that they would be spending the morning at one of his favorite museums and then lunching at a new Italian restaurant he had been wanting to try. He was even more excited to hear that Sophie would be joining them for the day.

Once breakfast was over, he ran upstairs to get ready, excited for the first time in a very long time that it was his birthday.

* * *

The morning at the museum was perfect, as far as Neal was concerned. He enjoyed showing Sophie all of his favorite works of art and talking with Elizabeth about the newest exhibit, which she particularly liked. He also enjoyed seeing Peter looking decidedly bored.

Once they were done at the museum, they made their way to Trattoria L'incontro, where Elizabeth told Neal and Sophie that they could order anything they wanted. Neal ordered a Calamari Fritti as an appetizer and Ravioli Ricchi for his entrée. He had always wanted to try calamari.

They all enjoyed their lunch choices, even Peter…. until the bill was given to him. Without a word, though, he paid the bill, wondering how it was that a kid that had practically grown up on the streets of New York had such refined tastes in everything.

After lunch was finished, they spent the afternoon in Central Park. Neal and Sophie went on a long walk and rented a canoe for a few hours. Elizabeth and Peter spent several hours on a blanket underneath a shade tree. All in all, it was a wonderful day for everyone.

By four o'clock, Elizabeth decided it was time to head back home. Unbeknownst to Neal, while they were out and about, both sets of his grandparents were busy planning a surprise party for him. Neal thought that they were just going home to spend the evening watching movies. He was glad that Sophie was planning on joining them, too.

Once they arrived home, Elizabeth ran inside before Neal was even out of the car. Grabbing Satchmo and his leash, she walked back outside and asked Neal and Sophie to take the dog for a quick walk. Neal was more than happy to do it, wanting to spend more alone time with his girlfriend. Elizabeth and Peter watched the two teenagers walk off and then turned and ran into the house.

* * *

When Neal and Sophie hadn't returned after thirty minutes, Elizabeth started getting nervous. After everything that had happened with Neal recently, she had good reason to be concerned. Peter figured that the boy was just wanting to spend some time with Sophie, but he went to check on them to make his wife feel better. Opening the door, he was embarrassed to find that he was interrupting a rather passionate kiss between the two teens. He had to clear his throat two different times before either one of them realized he was there. Breaking apart in an embarrassing rush, both of them stepped around an equally embarrassed Peter and into the house.

"Surprise!" everyone yelled the moment Neal walked in through the door.

Neal was completely shocked to see so many people in their living room. Looking around, he realized that both sets of his grandparents were there, as well as his aunt, uncle, and cousins. He was even more surprised to see Diana, Jones, Hughes, and several other of Peter's agents. His biggest surprise, though, was when he saw Mozzie lurking in the corner, staying as far away as he could from the conglomeration of FBI agents.

"What's going on?" he asked Elizabeth, who was standing next to him with a great big smile on her face.

"They're all here for your birthday, Neal," she laughed.

Neal suddenly felt a little overwhelmed by the thought. He really couldn't remember ever having a birthday party in his young life. Mara had never been the type to care about trivial things such as birthdays and the birthdays he spent with Mozzie were much more subdued. During his time on the streets, his birthdays had passed without him even realizing what day it was.

To Neal's embarrassment, his eyes filled with tears, but he quickly regained control of himself. Plastering a smile on his face, Neal made his way around the room, greeting everyone and thanking them for coming. He happily suffered through several long hugs from his grandmothers and aunt, and then claps on the back from Grandpa Ben and Uncle David. Robert Mitchell gave the boy a small smile and shook his hand as he wished him a happy birthday. Things were still a little uncomfortable between the two of them, but it was getting better.

Once he made his way to Mozzie, he gave the man a quick hug, knowing that he wasn't really one for physical contact.

"Mozzie, I'm glad you're here!" Neal said.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, mon frère," Mozzie answered. "Although, the Suit left out how many other suits would be here."

"Don't worry, Mozz…..they won't bother you, I promise. I won't let them and neither will mom."

Mozzie threw an affectionate look at Elizabeth. "I definitely feel better with Mrs. Suit here. Plus, I'm hoping that she will serve that delicious gelato she made at Christmas."

Neal spent several more minutes talking with Mozzie before being called over to the center of the room by Elizabeth. To his mortification, everyone around him suddenly burst into the Happy Birthday song, while Elizabeth brought out a giant cake with sixteen candles burning brightly. With everyone's eyes on him, Neal took a deep breath and easily blew out the candles.

After everyone had had their fill of cake and homemade gelato, Neal was instructed to sit in the middle of the room to open his presents. Other than the Christmas he had just spent with Peter and Elizabeth, Neal was not used to having people give him presents.

He made sure to thank the person that gave him each present as he opened it and his gratitude was sincere. Eventually, though, he got to a gift that had no name on it. Opening it up, he was surprised to see a picture of his two year old self in a beautiful silver frame. The picture showed him wearing what could only be his father's policeman hat and badge, as he was stuffing cake into his mouth.

"Mom?" he asked. "Where did you find this?"

Elizabeth stepped forward and looked at what Neal was holding. She looked up at Peter, confusion evident on her face. "That isn't from me, sweetie. Peter?"

Peter looked at the picture, too. "I've never seen it, either," he said. Looking around the room, he asked if anyone knew where the present had come from. He was surprised when Will spoke up.

"I found it out on the doorstep, Uncle Peter. I didn't see who dropped it off, it was just there when I took Eva to the park."

Peter immediately took the picture from Neal, making sure to hold it only by the corner. "Jones, can you take this and check it for fingerprints? I want to know who it's from as soon as possible."

Jones stood up and grabbed the picture frame with a handkerchief. Peter grabbed a zip lock freezer bag from the kitchen and held it open for Jones. Minutes later, Jones left to see what he could find.

Unfortunately, by this time, the mood of the party had deteriorated significantly. Peter, Elizabeth, and the rest of the adults had an uncomfortable suspicion of who the picture was from, but no one talked about it at the moment. Instead, Elizabeth tried her best to get the party back on track. She solicited Mozzie's help and eventually they had a rousing game of Charades going. Elizabeth and Peter both kept a watchful eye on Neal, who was doing his best to look like he wasn't disturbed by the recent turn of events.

A few hours later, the party dwindled down and everyone offered a last birthday greeting to Neal before leaving. Once everyone was gone, Neal quietly helped Elizabeth clean up while Peter checked in with Jones. When he walked back into the house, Neal and Elizabeth could both tell that he had learned something and was rather upset about it.

"Dad? Did you find out who it was from?" Neal asked.

Peter looked at Elizabeth before turning to Neal. "Neal, why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed?"

"No way!" Neal yelled. "I want to know what you found out! Besides, it's only seven o'clock!"

"Neal, I'm not going to argue with you about this. I want to talk to your mother first."

Neal started to argue, but thought better of it. Instead, he stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Peter waited to hear the door to Neal's bedroom slam before turning back to his wife, not knowing that Neal had quietly snuck back down the stairs and was listening nearby.

"It's Mara, El," Peter growled. "I don't know how she did it, but the picture frame and the picture had her fingerprints all over it."

Elizabeth gasped at his words. "What does that mean, Peter? Did she escape? Is that what happened?"

"No, she's still in custody, El. She must have had someone helping her, but I have no idea who."

"What are we going to tell Neal, hon?" Elizabeth asked, worriedly.

"I don't know, but I don't think he needs to know that it was Mara," Peter answered. "I don't want him to worry about her again."

"Peter, I think we should tell him."

"Not yet," Peter said. "Maybe once we know more about how it happened, but not right now."

* * *

Neal didn't know how he felt about the fact that Mara had sent him a present. He had been trying to put her completely out of his mind, but for obvious reasons, it was a hard thing to do. Now, she had somehow reinserted herself back into his life, shaking his fragile sense of security. _What did she want from him?_

Making his way back to his room, he couldn't control the anger mounting in him at knowing that his dad was going to lie to him. _So much for rule number two, right? _Changing into his pajamas, he waited patiently for Peter to come upstairs and lie about what he had found out. All the while, he was working on a way to get to the truth himself.

* * *

Peter felt bad about lying to Neal, but he truly felt it was necessary. More than anything, he wanted to protect his son from everything having to do with Mara Steele. He was ashamed to admit that part of his reluctance was because he wasn't entirely sure that Neal wouldn't do something stupid. No matter how much the boy had matured since he had been in their care, he was still unable to control his impulsivity.

After gently knocking on Neal's door, he opened it to find the boy sitting on the edge of his bed. He could tell that Neal was still angry about being sent to his room.

"Hey, buddy," he said. "I'm sorry I sent you up here, but I wanted to talk to your mom first. Now, I'm ready to talk to you, okay?"

Neal shrugged his shoulders, not trusting himself to answer without giving away his anger.

"Neal, Jones is still working on things, but we don't have anything definitive yet, okay? So, what do you say that for now we just put this all out of our minds?"

"He didn't find anything?" Neal asked.

"Not yet, bud." Peter hoped that Neal couldn't tell how guilty he was feeling.

"Okay," Neal said. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"I thought maybe you'd want to come downstairs and watch a movie or something," Peter offered.

"I think I'll stay up here and read for a while. It's been a long day."

"Okay," Peter said. "Goodnight, son."

"Goodnight, Peter," Neal said before turning his back on his father.

* * *

Peter walked back downstairs with a growing sense of concern. Neal hadn't called him Peter in several months, so hearing him say that was very distressing.

"How is he?" Elizabeth asked as soon as he entered the living room.

"He's upset, hon, but he'll be okay. He said he was tired and just wanted to stay in his room."

"Peter, are you sure? Maybe we should tell him what we know."

"We will, El. Once we get more information. For now, let's just keep it between us, okay?"

Elizabeth didn't really agree with her husband, but she also didn't want to cause Neal any more hurt. _Maybe waiting wasn't a bad idea._

* * *

Neal woke up the next morning with a plan forming in his brain. He knew it was a horrible, impulsive plan, but he also knew he was going through with it. After taking a quick shower, he dressed as quickly as he could, went downstairs for a quick breakfast, and followed Peter out to the car.

The ride to school was made mostly in silence, although Peter tried to start a conversation several different times. Once they arrived at school, Neal said a quick goodbye and walked into the school without looking back at Peter. He didn't want to take a chance that seeing Peter again would change his mind. He had a plan and he was going through with it, no matter what.

He made it through his morning classes and at lunchtime he made his move. Walking over to a table in the lunchroom that held a few seniors, he sat down and addressed one of them.

"Hey, Elliot…I have a proposition for you, if you're interested. Do you want to make a little money?"

"How so, kid?" the tall senior answered.

"I need to borrow your wheels for a few hours. I'll pay nicely."

Elliot laughed. "Do you even have a license, Caffrey?"

"No, but I know how to drive. And I've got $200 for you."

"$200? Really? Just to let you borrow my wheels?"

"Yeah, so what do you say?"

"I can't let you take my wheels, kid, but I'll drive you where you need to go. When and where?"

"Right now," Neal answered. "And I'll tell you on the way."

Without another word, Elliot stood up and led Neal out of the cafeteria.

* * *

It took them almost two hours to get to the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility. By the time they got there, Neal was tired of listening to Elliot's choice of music. He had always hated rap music. Once they were there, Neal told Elliot to stay in the car, and he made his way into the building.

Entering into the front door, he walked quickly up to the desk. The trip had taken longer than he had planned and there was only twenty minutes of visiting time left. After checking in, making sure to tell the man at the desk that he was Mara Steele's son, he was led into a small room. The officer asked him to have a seat and mere minutes later, Mara Steele was led into the room. Neal was glad that the room was partitioned off and that Mara was sitting behind this partition. Suddenly, he wondered what exactly he was hoping to accomplish by meeting with her.

"Neal? What are you doing here? You must have gotten my package. Happy Birthday, baby." Mara looked at Neal with predator eyes.

Neal did his best not to give away how uncertain he was feeling at the moment. Taking a few long seconds to make sure that his voice was under control, he finally answered.

"Why did you send that to me, Mara? What were you trying to prove?"

"I wasn't trying to prove anything, Neal. That's always been one of my favorite pictures of you and I thought you might like to have it. Do you remember that day?"

"No, Mara, I don't. All I remember of you are days filled with misery and hate. I'm sure there was a time that we were happy, but you ruined that. You, Mara! And you don't get to make up for that! I don't need you and I never will! Just leave me alone!"

"You came all this way just to tell me that?" Mara asked. "Do the Burkes know that you're here?"

"Just leave me alone," Neal repeated. "I hate you, Mara! "You're pathetic and I never want to see you again. You don't deserve me, so just leave me alone!"

With that, Neal stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Mara to stare after him.

* * *

Peter was thinking about heading out of the office for the day when Diana entered his office. He could tell by the look on her face that something was wrong.

"Boss? We have a problem." Diana shifted her feet nervously in front of his desk.

"What kind of problem, Diana?"

Before she could answer, Peter's phone rang. Holding up a finger to Diana, he quickly answered. Minutes later, he practically slammed the phone down, anger suffusing his being.

"Damn it!" he growled. "That kid is going to be the death of me. That was Neal's school, telling me that he skipped out on his afternoon classes. What am I going to do with him?!"

"Peter, I know where he is. Jones put a request in at Bedford Hills Correctional to be notified of anyone visiting Mara Steele. We just got a call that she had a visitor this afternoon."

Diana cleared her throat before continuing. Her answer shocked Peter to his core.

"It was Neal, Peter…"

* * *

Author's note: Well, I was planning on this being a one-shot, but it's gotten a little out of control. I promise I'll have the next bit up soon. Thanks so much for reading. I would love to hear your thoughts on the story.


	2. Part II

Whatever It Takes: Birthdays and Bad Choices

Part II

* * *

Warning: This chapter makes reference to corporal punishment in the form of spanking. No corporal punishment actually takes place.

* * *

Neal was completely silent on the drive back to school, his thoughts a jumbled mess. Looking back on what he had done, he realized that he had, once again, pulled a stupid, stupid stunt. Peter was going to be downright furious if he found out what he had done. Neal tried to hurry Elliot along, hoping to get back to school before the final bell rang. He figured that his absence from class would have been reported to the headmaster, but he could surely come up with some convincing excuse that Peter would buy.

His plan fell apart and his heart sank at the sight of Peter standing in front of the school, talking with Headmaster Phillips. By the way Peter was standing, back straight and both hands on his hips, Neal could tell that the man was more than furious. _If his dad was that angry at the idea of him skipping school, how much angrier would he be when he found out that he had actually gone to visit Mara?!_

Elliot pulled into the student parking lot and Neal was able to get out of the car without being seen by Peter. Entering the school through a side door, he quickly went to his locker and grabbed his backpack and books. After taking a few deep breaths, he headed for the front of the school, planning his excuse while he was walking.

As he followed some of the other students out of the school, he stopped suddenly behind Peter and the headmaster, planting a look of surprise on his face.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" he asked as innocently as he could.

Peter spun around on his heels, surprised to see his son standing behind him. "Neal! What in the hell were you thinking, young man?!" he exploded, not caring that Neal's schoolmates were witnessing everything.

Neal looked around, embarrassed that so many people were watching everything. "Dad, I can explain…."

"Can you?" Peter yelled. "Do you actually think that any excuse you give me will explain your foolishness?! How could you do something so stupid?!"

"Dad, it was just a few classes. Classes that I'm way ahead in anyway. I didn't miss anything."

Peter looked at Neal as if he had grown two heads. _How was it that the boy didn't realize that it wasn't the skipping classes that had him so angry? _He suddenly realized that Neal was unaware that he knew where he had gone. The kid was obviously working on some sort of plan, some sort of scheme, and Peter was willing to wait and see what he came up with.

"Explain," Peter said in a much calmer voice.

Neal wished that he had had time to go over a few things with Elliot before he started making up a story. If the headmaster chose to question Elliot, his excuse would completely fall apart. Looking at his dad, seeing the anger and suspicion in his eyes, he didn't know what to do.

"I thought you said you could explain, son? I'm waiting," Peter said in a steely voice.

"I, uh…..I was hungry," Neal said nervously. "I forgot my lunch at home and I didn't like what they were serving in the cafeteria, so I asked a senior to take me to get something else."

Neal knew it wasn't one of his best lies, but he had always found it a little hard to lie to Peter. Something about the man just demanded the truth.

"You were hungry…." Peter said in a calm voice. "That's the story you're going with? You were hungry?"

"Yeah," Neal answered. "I'm a growing boy, remember?" He put on one of his most charming grins, but could tell that Peter wasn't buying it. Instead, the man looked even angrier, if that was possible.

Peter moved his gaze from Neal and turned to Headmaster Phillips. After a few quick words with the man, he turned back to Neal. "Let's go," he said, grabbing Neal none too gently by the arm.

Neal stepped forward quickly, keeping his eyes pointed to the ground. His face blushed a deep scarlet, knowing that everyone was watching him being dragged away like an errant child.

* * *

The ride home was the most uncomfortable ride Neal had ever taken. He could tell by the way his dad gripped the steering wheel, knuckles whitened by the tightness, that he was really and truly furious. And that was without even taking into consideration the way his jaw was clenched and the tic in his right eyelid. Neal wished that his dad would slow the car down enough for him to jump out of it. That was the only chance he had of surviving the day.

He knew he had really screwed up and he knew that he deserved whatever punishment he was about to receive, but there was a part of him that didn't care. He needed to know _why _Mara would do what she did and it didn't seem like his parents were going to be honest with him about it. Taking matters into his own hands seemed like his only option at the time. Maybe he should have waited, but it was a done deal now. There was no turning back, unfortunately. In fact, truth be told, if he had it to do over again, he was pretty sure he would have done the same thing. He wasn't sure he would be feeling that way later, though.

* * *

Peter had had many reasons to be mad at the young man sitting next to him in the car. The kid had a near genius IQ, but repeatedly made idiotic mistakes. Peter knew that the kid was dangerously impulsive and still had a lot of maturing to do, but this recent escapade was too over the top. He had never felt so angry at the young man and he had no idea how to deal with him. It was obvious that grounding the boy and restricting his privileges had done nothing to make him act more responsibly. It was obvious that he needed to handle this in a different way. The only problem was that he had no idea how.

By the time they arrived home, Peter's arms were aching and his jaw was hurting from clenching it so hard. Without a word to Neal, he climbed out of the car and headed into the house, obviously expecting him to follow. Once he was in the house, he waited for Neal to enter before commanding the boy to sit down on the sofa. Neal sat without hesitation, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

* * *

Elizabeth heard the front door open and walked out to greet whoever was home. She thought it must be Neal, who was supposed to get a ride home with Sophie, so she was surprised to see her husband home, as well. Before she could even greet them, Peter walked past her and out onto the back patio.

"Peter?" she called after him, but he kept on walking.

Looking over at Neal, she noticed how he wasn't taking his eyes off of the floor.

"Neal? What's going on?"

Neal kept his gaze on the floor, not wanting to see the coming disappointment in Elizabeth's eyes. He knew it was inevitable, but he wanted to delay it as long as he could.

"What in the world is going on?" Elizabeth asked, her voice filled with both fear and frustration. "Neal, I need you to talk to me, sweetie."

Neal couldn't stand the fear he heard in her voice, so he finally spoke up. "I messed up, Beth. I messed up and Peter's really mad at me."

Elizabeth knew by the way Neal had reverted to calling them by their first names that he was really upset. Now more than ever she was desperate to find out what had happened. Sitting down next to the boy on the sofa, she grabbed one of his hands in both of hers.

"Neal…sweetie, whatever happened, we'll deal with it, okay? It's nothing we can't handle as a family, remember?"

Those words finally seemed to breakthrough to him and seconds later, he was telling her everything that had happened.

* * *

By the time Peter felt like he had calmed down enough, he stepped back into the house. He could hear the voices of his wife and son in the living room, their gentle laughter stirring his anger again. Once he stepped into the living room, the laughter immediately subsided, and Elizabeth and Neal both looked up at him nervously.

"I don't see anything funny about the situation," he growled.

"Peter…." Elizabeth started, but was quickly cut off by her husband.

"No, El…You have no idea what stupid stunt he pulled today!"

"I do have an idea, Peter, because he just told me," Elizabeth answered. "He also said he was sorry for doing something so stupid."

Peter looked at his wife in astonishment. "El, how can you be so calm about this? Think about what he did! He left the city and went to a _prison _to see a woman who tried to kill him! He skipped school and took off with some kid we don't even know! He _lied_ to me, El! He lied to my face!" Turning to Neal, he wasn't surprised to see the boy looking at anything but him. "I want to know what you were thinking, Neal? What possessed you to pull such a stupid stunt?"

After a few long seconds of silence, Neal finally spoke. "I wanted to know why she would do that. Why she has to keep messing with me. Why she can't leave me alone. And you wouldn't tell me!"

"Damn it, Neal! We were going to tell you, as soon as we knew more. You should have just stayed out of it!"

"I deserved to know, Peter! It's my business! And you lied to me, too, you know."

"I lied to you to protect you, Neal. I wanted to protect you from her for as long as I could. I did what I thought was right."

"Well, it wasn't right," Neal yelled. "I'm sixteen! I can handle more than you think!"

Peter rubbed his face in frustration. "I know you can handle things, Neal, but sometimes I just don't think you should have to. You're just a kid."

"I'm not a kid, Peter! And, if I had it all to do over again, I'd do the same thing!"

Neal immediately knew by the look on Peter's face that that was the wrong thing to say.

"Listen here, little man! One way or another, you are going to learn to control your impulses and make better decisions. And I'm going to be the one to teach you."

Elizabeth placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, hoping to instill some calm into him. "Peter, Neal knows he messed up, he apologized, and he's ready to face his punishment, okay?"

"Is he?" Peter asked, glaring at the boy. "Are you sure about that, Neal?"

Neal looked warily up at his father. His eyes widened wildly when he realized that Peter was unbuckling his belt. _He wouldn't really do that, would he?_

Elizabeth also figured out what Peter was thinking and she quickly stepped in front of Neal.

"Peter?" she questioned.

Peter looked at his wife. "I don't know what else to do, El," he admitted. "It's obvious that nothing we've done so far as made an impression on him. Grounding? Loss of privileges? Extra chores? Nothing has worked, El. He continues to make the same mistakes, over and over and over."

Elizabeth placed a hand on her husband's chest and without taking her eyes off of him, she spoke to Neal. "Neal? Go on up to your room, okay? I need to talk to your father."

Without a word, Neal stood up and ran up the stairs, eager to get away from whatever his father had planned.

* * *

Once Neal was upstairs, Elizabeth sank back into the sofa. Peter was surprised to see her hands trembling and he wondered if she could see his doing the same. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sat down on the sofa next to her.

"El, I don't know what else to do. Nothing we've done so far has worked to deter him from making bad choices. I feel like I don't have any other choice."

"Peter, I don't think this is the right thing to do. It's too much to handle."

"El, it's just a spanking. Do you have any idea how many times my dad took his strap to me? I turned out pretty good, didn't I?

"That's different, Peter. You were confident in your father's love for you. Neal is still learning to accept our love for him. It's still fragile at times. Something like this might shake his confidence too much. And I don't think it's something _you_ can handle, either, hon."

Peter ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He knew that Elizabeth was right, but that still left him with the impossible task of coming up with a punishment that might actually get through to the kid.

"You're right, El," he said wearily. "So, what are we going to do?"

* * *

Neal couldn't believe the trouble he had gotten himself into. He wasn't lying when he said that he would do it again if he had to, but that didn't negate the fact that he really, really wished that the situation would just go away.

Peter had implied on a few other occasions that he wasn't totally against corporal punishment, but Neal hadn't really ever felt that the threat was imminent. This was a different story, though. It seemed that the man had already made up his mind and that Neal's backside would soon be feeling the wrath of his father. Neal's only hope was that Elizabeth would be able to talk Peter out of it, but he really wasn't convinced that that might actually be possible this time.

Feeling a sudden urge to run, Neal forced himself to sit down on his bed and take a few deep breaths. _How bad could it be? Didn't this sort of thing happen to most kids at one time or another? Surely, it wouldn't be that bad, right?_

Neal knew he was fooling himself. If Peter actually went through with it, Neal didn't think he could handle it. He knew that he would probably fall apart immediately and he would never be able to look Peter in the eye again. _Besides, why would someone who professed to love you want to actually cause you pain? If you loved someone, wouldn't you want to do anything you could to keep them from hurting? _ It didn't make sense to him, at all.

Realizing that his head was actually hurting from the thoughts that stormed his mind, Neal laid back onto his bed, grabbing his pillow and covering his face with it. All he could do now, was listen for the dreaded sound of Peter's footsteps on the stairs.

* * *

After talking things over a little bit more, Elizabeth encouraged Peter to go upstairs and talk to their son. She knew that Neal was most likely nervous and scared, and she really didn't want him to wait any longer than was necessary. Peter, on the other hand, really wanted to prolong the coming talk as long as possible.

Gathering his courage, he kissed his wife on the cheek and started up the stairs. He couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face at the thought of how Neal was probably feeling at hearing his footsteps on the stairs. He remembered how he had felt when he was in that same position as a child…..his stomach flipping nervously, his palms growing sweaty, his backside tingling at the thought of a session over his father's knees. _That was definitely a feeling you never forgot. _

Once he reached Neal's door, he rapped lightly on the door and slowly opened it to find Neal on the bed with a pillow over his face. Seconds later, the boy was sitting up and looking nervously at him.

Peter walked over to the desk and grabbed the chair, pulling it over to face the bed. Sitting down with a heavy sigh, Peter ran his hands through his hair before looking closely at his son. He was surprised to see that Neal's face was unusually pale and strained. _Was the kid really that afraid of him?_ _How had he managed to mess things up so badly?_

"Neal, we need to talk, son," Peter said.

"I'm sorry, Peter," Neal retorted. "I know I really messed up today and I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again. I promise."

"Neal….. how many times are we going to have to go through this? How many times are you going to keep making the same mistakes over and over again? What is it going to take to make you realize that you can't keep making these stupid decisions?"

"I don't know," Neal answered quietly. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Peter. I just…. I just can't control myself sometimes."

"What's _wrong_ with you, Neal, is that you've always had to take care of yourself. You've always been able to just do whatever you want. You've never had someone oto guide you into making better decisions. But, you're not stupid, kid. You know what you should and shouldn't do. If you didn't, you wouldn't have had to sneak around behind our backs and lie to us, right? So, what that means is that it's time to start taking responsibility for your actions and choices."

"I am, Peter. I said I was sorry, didn't I?" Neal retorted.

"Watch it, Neal. You're already on very thin ice with me," Peter growled.

Neal dropped his gaze down to his knees and Peter let out another big sigh.

"I was prepared to come up here and tan your backside, son, but your mother talked some sense into me. I can't count the number of times that my dad took his strap to me when I was growing up, but I still respect the man more than anyone I've ever known. I realize, though, that it's different with you. Because of everything you've been through in your young life…..despite that fact that Elizabeth and I have repeatedly told you that we love you and will always love you…..you still don't truly grasp that. I'm not sure if you ever really will, son, but I don't want to do anything that might jeopardize the possibility."

Peter noticed the look of relief that crossed Neal's face, bringing a sad smile to his own face.

"So," he continued. "That leaves us with a little bit of a problem, doesn't it?! What do we do now?"

Neal sat quietly with his head hanging down.

"Well, I'm sure I don't even need to say this, but you're grounded, little man. For a very, very, very long time. That means no phone, no laptop, no television, no extracurricular activities, and no Sophie. And that's just the beginning. I'm not sure what else, but I'm pretty sure I can come up with something appropriate."

Neal looked up at Peter with a pathetic look. "How long is a very, very, very long time?" he asked.

"Let's just say that you shouldn't make any plans for the next two months, okay?" Peter answered.

"TWO MONTHS?!" Neal yelled. "That's not fair!"

"It's _completely_ fair, son, but I'll tell you what isn't fair. It isn't fair that your mother and I dropped you off at school with the clear expectation that you would be there the whole day, only to find that you've skipped your classes and left the city with someone _WE DON'T EVEN KNOW_ to visit a woman who is serving time in a maximum security prison for kidnapping and _ATTEMPTED MURDER_. That isn't fair!"

Neal could tell that Peter was on the verge of completely losing it and decided that he shouldn't push it any further.

"Okay," he said. "Two months. I get it! But, don't blame me if I succumb to the inevitable boredom I'll be facing. Two months is a long time in teenage years, you know. And it's going to wreak havoc on my social life."

"Duly noted, Neal." Peter sighed. "Now, why don't you stay up here until dinner is ready? By then, I'll have figured out the rest of your punishment and we'll talk some more."

Neal groaned at that before falling back on the bed and pulling the pillow back over his face.

* * *

Dinner that night was a rather subdued affair, mostly because Neal was unhappy with the rest of the punishments that Peter laid out for him. Not only was he grounded for two whole months, he also had extra chores and an early bedtime, of course. Peter also informed him that he wasn't allowed to take the test for his driver's license until his restriction was over. The worst part, though, was that he had to spend every weekday afternoon at the White Collar office, under the supervision of some probationary agent. Neal hated to go to the office with Peter, mostly because the man wouldn't let him do anything. _It looked like it was going to be a very, very, very long two months!_

* * *

Once Neal had showered and climbed into bed, it was almost nine o'clock. He couldn't believe that he was being sent to bed so early, but there was a part of him that was secretly glad. It had been a long day and he really was exhausted.

Just as he closed his eyes, he heard a small knock on his door. He watched as it opened to reveal Elizabeth standing there awkwardly.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly.

Neal nodded his head and watched as she walked over to his bed, planting herself firmly on the bed next to him.

"Sweetie, I wanted to talk to you about something. Something that's been bothering me all evening…."

Neal had no idea what she could be talking about, but he gave her his undivided attention.

"Sweetie, for the last several months you've been calling Peter and I "mom" and "dad." Why do you revert back to calling us by our first names whenever you're in trouble?"

Neal was surprised by Elizabeth's question. He really wasn't sure why he did it and he really didn't know how to explain it to her, either. He was sure that it was because any adversity that occurred shook his confidence to the core, making him believe that he didn't deserve to think of them as his parents. But, how was he to explain that to her?

"I don't know, Beth," he finally admitted. "I guess I just don't feel like I deserve to call you mom and dad sometimes. You deserve a better son, Beth, and I'm not sure I can be that son for you."

"Neal…..sweetie….you _are_ that son to us. Your father and I love you, even when you're causing all kinds of trouble. There isn't anything you could do that would make us stop loving you. Not a single thing! I know that's hard for you to believe, but I need you to try, okay?"

"I'll try," Neal said.

"Good, because my heart breaks a little every time I hear you call me something besides mom. I will always be your mom and I will always love you. Even when you're making monumentally bad decisions, okay?"

With that, Elizabeth leaned over and kissed Neal on the forehead. "Why don't you get some sleep, sweetie? It's been a long day."

Just as she reached the door, Neal stopped her with a simple question. "Mom? Dad's disappointed in me, isn't he? Do you think he'll forgive me?"

"Neal, he's not disappointed in you, sweetie. Yes, he's disappointed in your recent choices, but I know for a fact that he's extremely proud of you. And that he loves you more than life itself."

Neal didn't look like he truly believed her, but that all changed just seconds later.

"She's right, Neal," Peter said from the door. "I am extremely proud of you, son. And I am extremely proud to be your father. That will never change."

Before Peter knew what was happening, Neal had jumped out of bed, fortunately escaping the tangled sheets without falling, and threw himself into his father's arms. In that moment, Peter knew that they were going to be okay.

No matter what life threw at them, they would all be okay.

* * *

Author's note: Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it and I would love to hear your thoughts, ideas, etc…

On another note, I should have another chapter of What He Does Best up soon. Thanks for hanging in there with me and thanks for reading and reviewing.

Until next time…..


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